Gemotions

Sarah’s fingers trembled as she scrolled through the website. There it was, bold and stark: “My Teenage Diary.” A chill crawled up her spine. This couldn't be happening. She ran a hand through her hair, a nervous gesture she hadn't made in years. The font looked familiar, the cover illustration a crude sketch of a unicorn with a rainbow mane. Her stomach churned.

She clicked on the first entry. The words leaped off the screen, raw and familiar. It was about a school dance, a boy she’d had a crush on, and a dress she’d agonized over. She could almost *smell* the cheap perfume and hairspray of the night. Her lips curved into a small, wistful smile, followed by a deeper sigh.

The screen’s glow illuminated the dust motes dancing in the air, a silent ballet that mirrored the swirling memories in her head. She found herself reaching for a mug, needing a steadying drink of tea. The comfort of the beverage seemed to help. How very, very long ago it seemed.